


Gregory House X Reader – Not So Bad

by writeyouin



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 09:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyouin/pseuds/writeyouin
Summary: The reader is a British Psychologist who House is forced to see for therapy; therapy turns to smut.





	Gregory House X Reader – Not So Bad

House growled irritably, it had been a bad day all around. First, his car had broken down, forcing him to take a taxi which stank of stagnant sweat on the hot day. Then, because of a reckless driver, the roads were blocked halfway between home and work, leaving House to slam out of the taxi huffily. Finally, to top the hellish day off, it was only after House had waited in line for an hour to order his coffee that he found he was exactly 10 cents short and had left his wallet at home.

It wasn’t exactly robbery and the coffee had already been made; in fact, by throwing the coffee away, they’d be losing more money.

“Look,” House said, losing what little patience remained, “I am the most advanced surgeon in this God damn city, is it too much to ask for my God damn coffee from this shit-stain of a coffee shop?”

The young girl behind the counter held back a sniffle, clearly unsure of what to do and evidently inexperienced. “I um, should go get my manag-”

“For God’s sake,” House snapped, unsettling the girl further.

You’d been waiting behind House for a few minutes now, witnessing the entire scene. With a confident stride, you approached the cashier, speaking sweetly, “Ten cents, right?” You pulled out a five-dollar bill, “Give the man his coffee pet, on top of that I’d like a cup of tea to go, milk and two sugars.”

The girl visibly calmed, handing House his coffee and preparing your tea. House sighed, sulking into his coffee, he was clearly going to have to thank you but he didn’t want to; he’d rather avoid human contact as much as possible right now. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You’re welcome,” You smiled warmly, throwing him off guard. Then, grabbing your tea, you added, “As much as I’d love a good chin-wag, I must pop out, nice meeting you though, Mr…?”

“Greg,” he replied, quickly adding, “I’d like to talk more though, if you have time.” He hadn’t expected to say that but when you didn’t hold the usual arrogance of his fellow Americans, he decided to like you; not to mention, the charming British accent helped.

You checked your watch, “Uhh, sure, I’ve got time.”

And so, the two of you sat together, enjoying one drink after another. House soon learned that you were in America on business, you rented an apartment coincidentally close to his, your family were all back in the UK, and many other such things. You, on the other hand, still knew nothing about the man in front of you, other than his first name was Greg. Every time you’d ask him a question, he’d skirt around it with a quip and distract you with a question about yourself; as a psychologist, you were dying to psychoanalyse him.

By the end of the ‘date’ if it could be called such, you left House with your number, trusting that he’d call you sometime. The pleasant chat with you had vanquished his anger completely until the next day when it re-emerged.

* * *

“NO!” House thundered, this was the final straw, he was going to quit. He hadn’t been in the hospital more than 10 minutes when Cuddy told him he had to see the new psychologist weekly or lose his job by order of the hospitals patrons. He was the best at his job and just because some pompous ass-holes believed more in bedside manner than actual results, he was being punished; there was no way he’d stand for this.

“You’re doing this House,” Cuddy ordered, keeping pace with him as he marched to the elevators.

“My own parents couldn’t make me, what makes you think you can?”

“House,” she blocked his path, “even if you see Dr (L/N) once and get cleared, that’s all the hospital needs.”

House’s lip curled in contempt, fine, he would see you and demand to be cleared, otherwise he’d quit before they could fire him. “Right,” he growled, and headed to your office, one conveniently close to his; he supposed the patrons had done that on purpose.

He slammed into the room, yelling before he’d even realised who it was.

“THIS IS AN OUTRAGE, NONE OF THE OTHER DOCTORS HAVE TO COME TO YOUR SILLY BRANCH OF MIND INVASION.”

“Gregory?!” You stared in surprise.

“(Y/N)? What’re you doing he- No! No, you’re not the psychologist.”

“You’re House?”

“Who else?” He still looked somewhat offended, though less at you than the hospital administrators who’d put you both into this situation.

“I’m sorry to hear that you don’t want to work with me, though if you want we can talk a bit for now, off record.”

House paused, it seemed you were in just as much of a difficult position as he was, not to mention, you’d be the one to get into trouble if he didn’t co-operate. This had to be one of the only times he was thinking of somebody else instead of being selfish; it felt disgusting.

“No,” he murmured, “I’ll… one session.”

You smiled hopefully, “Thank you.”

* * *

 

“Greg,” You breathed heavily, unbuckling his belt eagerly. He had you perched on the desk in your office, as had become a habit during what was supposed to be your therapy sessions; it was the height of unprofessionalism but if nobody found out, you wouldn’t stop. His teeth grazed your neck, as his pants fell.

You felt around in his underwear, tugging carnally at his dick. You wanted it, he wanted it; there was no time for patience today.

“Fuck,” you keened as he pushed into you, grunting.

“You were right,” he panted, quickly settling into a pace of backwards and forwards, “British is better.”

Usually, you’d have answered back, even giving time for foreplay but today, due to an increase in patients, you didn’t have as long, this was going to be an in and out job; unromantic, yes but currently, neither you nor House were looking for romance, right now, you just lusted after one-another and that was enough.

“Enough talking,” You cried out, “if you don’t make me cum before leaving this office, I’m cancelling your therapy sessions.”

That was enough to spur House on, he moved harder, scraping the desk across the floor, all the while thinking incoherently, “ _Rule Britannia._ ”


End file.
